


Milkbox Daydream

by ficteer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was so busted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milkbox Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean Hinata Shouyou doesn't have a hand kink

"Oi, Hinata. ……You’ve been staring at my hands for the past five minutes."

It had been those words from across the picnic table that snapped him out of it, and Hinata felt his throat wring into a knot as his stomach clenched tightly. He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to give some kind of excuse, as it was absolutely clear from Kageyama’s drawn brows and deep frown that he would not be leaving without providing one, but all that came out was a spluttering noise that was most definitely  _not_  Japanese. His whole body had stiffened, every muscle freezing exactly where it was save for his heart, which had decided spontaneously that no, eighty beats a minute was not sufficient, one hundred twenty - no, one hundred forty was much better.

Kageyama put his milkbox down and broke the intense showdown he’d started, lifting his hands as he stared down at his palms like the answer to his unspoken question was written there. Hinata swallowed thickly, the cold sweat causing the hair on the back of his neck to prickle, the hot wood of the bench beneath his fingers rough as he gripped his hold tight by his thighs. He cut his eyes around the courtyard to see if there was anyone around to see the way his face was matching his hair at this point and he was wiggling in his seat now like he was about to piss his pants (though, he supposed, that wasn’t  _too_  far off the mark).

"Mmm…. yeah, I guess that last toss was pretty bad, huh. Sorry." Kageyama picks his milkbox up again and takes another sip, his face placid as he stares to the side. Hinata, however, was left to blink once, then twice, until he looked down at the table and resumed fidgeting. He bit on his lower lip, running his tongue over it thoughtfully as he tried to decide if he was going to  _do this_  or if he was going to sit here and let another day go by swallowing what he really wanted to say, but just the thought of parting his lips and spilling his guts made his toes feel cold despite the fact that he was wearing those nice athletic socks Noya had gotten him for his birthday, nevermind the cold sweat that was collecting in the small of his back not too far from a bruise that was just starting to form from that morning’s receive practice (that hadn’t gone as well as Kageyama would have liked…).

Hinata gulped, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to think of something to encourage him, and though he mustered up the comforting high five from Sugawara and the blinding enthusiasm from Noya and the fond strength of Asahi and Tanaka smacking him on his back while laughing and Daichi’s reassuring smile and Tsukishima pushing his eyeglasses up and threatening him if he didn’t and Yamaguchi rubbing the back of his head as he tried to say something helpful and  _this was ridiculous Hinata Shouyou do it do it do it do it do it -_ _  
_

"Wrong……." Hinata mutters before he winces. Okay, maybe Kageyama hadn’t heard him because he definitely wasn’t ready for this -

"What’s wrong?" 

…Or not. 

"I wasn’t thinking anything about your tosses!" Hinata said, clenching his teeth before he felt the heat in his cheeks rise and give birth once again to a shade that was probably even  _worse_  than his hair. “W-well, that is, I was thinking about them, but not in the sense that I was thinking about  _them_ but I was thinking about your  _hands_  and - ” Hinata felt his hands lifting defensively and flailing around as he desperately tried to close his mouth and stop the words from coming out, but it didn’t work until he finally bit down hard and tried to see how many shapes he could make out in the wood of the park bench.

When he finally managed to look up at Kageyama by glancing up in the middle of his pout, he saw Kageyama’s baffled expression with an agonizing mix of relief and frustration because Kageyama hadn’t gotten it but he  _hadn’t gotten it._

"…..Huh?" was the sound that came out of his mouth, the straw for his milkbox once again leaving his mouth as he put it down on the table and stared at Hinata. Flustered, Hinata felt now that not only his face but also his ears and a good bit of his neck were also fire red, if the heat he felt was any indication. He bit back a frustrated bite of air, then looked at Kageyama’s hands again because he was going to say it,  _he was going to say it._

 _“_ I was thinking… about how cool you are when you toss, and how good your hands are to do that, and,” Hinata flicked his tongue nervously over his lips, tightening his fingers on his shorts as his foot nervously bounced on the ground and he tried to concentrate on the way his shorts had that cool fabric that wicked away sweat and not on the way that his heart was testing the tensile strength of his ribcage. “…Well, I, uh, I was wondering… or thinking about, I guess… h-how… it would feel… in my hair while we were, y-you know…” Forget red. His face was now a second source of sunlight in the solar system. “….kissing.”

As soon as he said it, even though it had been in as quiet a voice as he could probably make while still actually emitting sound, all of the tension between his shoulder blades melted away. He’d done it. He’d said it, he’d finally,  _finally_  said it. A flash of movement in front of him, and Hinata looked up to see that Kageyama had moved his hand. Eyes drifting upwards, slowly, Hinata startled when he finally saw Kageyama’s face. It filled his gaze, and all Hinata could see was the way Kageyama’s cheeks were on fire, his mouth covered by his hand, his hand that Hinata knew would feel so nice tracing through his curls, a frown that could have been out of embarrassment or anger or, or, no, it was embarrassment, Hinata decided, judging the shape of Kageyama’s scowl and  _knowing_ him, eyes wide as he stared at Kageyama’s face and waited for him to respond.

It was an age of the Earth before Kageyama brought his eyes to meet Hinata’s, his hand lowering from his mouth and showing lips that were pursed together, and then Kageyama was standing, leaning over the table, and Hinata’s first thought was that he had been exactly right about how Kageyama’s hands would feel in his hair while they were kissing, except not quite, because without experiencing it he could have never known how shivers would race each other down his spine, how his hair would curl around Kageyama’s fingers like they were trying to hold him closer themselves, how Kageyama would use them to lean Hinata’s head back as his lips moved clumsily against Hinata’s. He could feel the heat radiating off of Kageyama’s face, knowing that some of it was probably reflected heat from his own cheeks, though he was more interested in the way he could feel Kageyama’s long eyelashes brush over his cheeks, the way his fast breath was washing over his face in time with the intense inhales he could hear, knowing that Kageyama’s heart was probably beating as quickly as his own, wondering if his stomach was as fluttery with the wings of little crows.

The kiss was over before he could separate all of the sensations from one another, Kageyama’s pants mixing with his own as he tried to separate out the slightest taste of milk from the gentle pull of Hinata’s lower lip between Kageyama’s teeth from the brush of Kageyama’s palm against his jaw when he finally stood straight and then sat back down, picking up his milkbox and taking a deep drink. Hinata blinked rapidly to situate himself back in the moment, watching as Kageyama refused to meet his gaze and how his face was flushed and his lips wet and swollen, and how his chest was moving up and down like he’d just run thirty laps around the gym instead of spent the last half hour sitting at a picnic table during his lunch break. He was scowling, but somehow, Hinata could only feel laughter bubble up from the heavy weight in his stomach, and when he reached across the table to grasp Kageyama’s hand in his own, Kageyama’s scowl deepened, but his fingers twined together with Hinata’s until their palms were touching, warm and calloused from hours of practice.

And such was the rest of their lunch break, no words between them, only held hands and an immature game of footsie, and a swelling, awesome hope in Hinata’s chest that this was just the beginning of something incredible.


End file.
